Talk to me
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: Caleb's life is hanging by a thread... but where that thread is leading is the real mystery.


**I cannot even believe I'm publishing this. If Bagilia finds out she's going to murder me, but what can I say? I kind of ship Caleb and Miranda. So here's a little one-shot about them; I got the idea after reading another Caleb/Miranda story: This is Right by MandyJai13, so you guys should all check that out if you can. As for this story, it's dark. Of course it's dark, it's me. No happy endings, no promises. If you want something light or happy, you should not be reading this. If you want something depressing, go ahead. Please review, and let me know what you think. If I get a good response I might be inspired to write more fics with this pairing.**

**Oh, and in case it's not clear, this is slightly AU. Caleb came to Ravenswood, but Miranda didn't die. Everything else is the same. They've known each other for a couple of months now, so it goes beyond the scope of the show and they've formed quite a tight friendship. So, here goes. Enjoy!**

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Halfway between Rosewood and Ravenswood, partway between waking and sleep, Caleb's car veers off the road. At first he's not aware of it, because it only takes half a second, maybe even less. His eyes don't even open until the car slams into the guardrail. Then he's jerked out of his daze by the sound of screeching metal, and all he can see is red. It's blood, he realizes as the pain kicks in, shooting down all his limbs and making his heart shudder. He's not sure where it's coming from, but by the way he's feeling faint he would guess it's probably something vital. With a groan he reaches up and touches his forehead, and when he pulls his hand away it's red.

The car has stopped moving now, and it occurs to Caleb that he should try to get out. He should assess the damage and try to work out his next move, but he's not even sure he can feel his fingers. He flexes his hands, looking at the blood smeared across the knuckles. Fingers, check. He stretches his left leg, slowly, wincing against the resistance. Check. Then he tries his right leg, but nothing happens. It's not even resistance, it's just a lack of anything. Like it's not even there.

He doesn't want to know, but he can't put it off. Carefully he looks down, and as he sees the damage he feels sick. He reaches desperately for the door, shoving it open and then tumbling out onto the grass. Then he throws up, violently, unable to look down at the mangled mess that used to be his leg. He's not sure anyone would be able to save it, but that knowledge doesn't register yet because he's now aware of something even more terrifying.

Blood is trickling down his face at an alarming rate, and he's beginning to lose feeling in his fingers. He glances back behind him, and can barely see the car. At first he thinks it's because it's so dark, but then he looks down and can't even see his hands. He blinks hard and his vision returns, but hesitantly, blurry, like it's warning him not to get too attached because it will be gone soon.

Gasping for breath, he starts to drag himself along the ground, away from the car. Five minutes later and he's barely made it two yards away. Pain is spreading through him like wildfire, and every breath and movement is agony. But he knows he needs to get away.

After another five minutes, he becomes aware of a noise from behind him. He comes to a stop, propping himself up against the guardrail and staring into the gloom. The car comes barrelling around the corner, and for a horrible moment he thinks it's going to go the same way he did. But it just veers around him and keeps going. Suddenly it stops, the brakes squealing, and then he hears doors slamming and voices shouting.

Something touches his shoulder and his eyes snap open. He's lying on the ground again, and as he forces himself to sit up he notices the puddle of blood he's left behind. He closes his eyes again, trying to focus on the voices of the people who have come to rescue him.

"Hey," says a panicked female voice. "Are you okay? Can you walk?"

He shakes his head, and even that simple movement makes him want to be sick again. He hears a startled squeal and knows the girl has caught sight of his leg – or rather, what used to be his leg.

"There's no one else in the car," comes a male voice, from further away but coming closer.

"Talk to me," the girl says, and he feels a rush of air as if she's signalling something to her companion. "What's your name?"

"Caleb," he grunts, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Caleb Rivers."

"Okay," the girl says in a voice that makes it clear she's trying to keep it together. "Caleb, my friend is calling an ambulance right now. Do you know how badly you're hurt?"

He licks his lips and mumbles something, fighting against the pain that's threatening to drown him. In his mind's eye he relives the crash; the car hitting the guardrail, his head hitting the steering wheel. He knows, more surely than he's ever known anything, that this is the end. He's losing too much blood, and he's a breath away from losing consciousness altogether.

"Caleb," says the girl frantically, and he can hear her friend talking quickly in the background. Calling the ambulance, alerting people who will never get here in time. "You're going to be okay, I promise. We'll stay with you until they get here, and then they'll take you to the hospital, and -"

Her words trail away, and he honestly doesn't know whether she stopped talking or he just can't hear her anymore. Caleb tries to shake his head, but it's too much effort. Instead he just slumps back even further, feeling pain ricochet inside him like a deadly game of pinball. Even as he marvels at the kindness of strangers, grateful that he's not going to die alone, his thoughts turn to other matters.

"What are you doing?" the girl asks as Caleb's hand drifts down his leg. "Do you need help?"

"My… phone…" he chokes out, and after only a second's hesitation he feels the girl reach into his pocket. Then he feels his phone pressed into his hand, and he opens his eyes.

"The ambulance will be here in about ten minutes," the boy announces nervously, walking over to them. He's younger than Caleb had imagined, looking like he's barely old enough to be out of school.

Caleb knows he doesn't have ten minutes. He's strangely calm about it, and instead of panicking about his impending death, he thinks instead about how he wants to spend his last moments. He finds Hanna in his contacts and his hand hovers over the Call button. He'd been on his way to see her tonight, and if he hadn't been so tired he would probably be in her arms right now.

But somehow calling her doesn't seem right. The last phone call he'd had with her had been yesterday, and they'd ended it with their usual 'I love you'. There's nothing he can say to top that, and he doesn't want Hanna to know that he crashed while he was en route to her. He'd wanted to surprise her, but this is not the surprise he'd had in mind.

He navigates to another number, and hits the Call button after only the slightest pause. He holds the phone to his ear, even though his hand is shaking.

"Caleb?" she says as soon as she picks up. "What's up?"

He lets out a weak cough, feeling blood bubble up in his lungs. He's not sure what exactly was damaged in the crash, but his gut feeling at the moment is that it was everything. At the very least it feels like several of his internal organs were injured.

"Caleb," she says again, all casual cheerfulness gone. "Are you okay?"

"I…" He starts to say that he's okay, but he doesn't want to lie to her. He takes a deep breath, feeling pain searing his lungs, and says, "I love you."

There's silence on the other end of the line, and he wonders if he's gone deaf again. His eyesight is going again, and he's only aware of the two people who stopped to save him because he can see blurry shadows moving in front of him.

"I love you too," she says quietly, and Caleb feels his heart soar. Then it plummets to the ground; it's already too late. "Do you need me to come get you or something?"

"No," he says. "Can you just… talk to me?"

Something in his voice must get through to her, because when she speaks again her tone if soft, hesitant, as if it's laden with tears. She has no way of knowing what's happened, but she can tell that something's wrong. To his relief she doesn't ask what it is; she'll find out soon enough. She keeps talking, about concepts he can barely understand and events he can't even remember, but it's comforting nonetheless.

Sirens start up in the distance, mere minutes away, but Caleb can already feel his life slipping through his fingers. One more minute, he thinks. Sixty seconds. It's not long enough, and yet somehow it's just right. The pain is fading quickly now, leaving him almost comfortably numb. The road fades from his vision, and his hearing is the only sense left. As he closes his eyes for the last time, all he can hear is Miranda's voice in his ear, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

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End file.
